Dreamland Elite
by zombiedoctor
Summary: The Scarecrow, Mad Hatter, and Peter Pan must join forces to save thier lands from a terrible threat. A team-up of three of the most popular characters from classic children's fantasy. Hope you enjoy, please comment.


Authors Note: This is just a little experiment I'm trying out. It was inspired by _League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_ and the new animated film _Rise of the Guardians_. The idea of Scarecrow, Mad Hatter and Peter Pan teaming up just seemed too irresistible to ignore. These are three of the most popular characters from three of the greatest childrens' fantasy books, and their different personalities make them perfect for a dysfunctional team. The Scarecrow has a country accent because it seemed to make sense by the way. Now without further ado...

_DREAMLAND ELITE_

_chapter one_

The stars shined in the millions above the observatory. Endless rivers of stardust and oceans of galaxies floated in infinity, just begging to be admired. At the moment, there was one admirer who stood outside on a balcony. This particular observatory was situated on a moon that was about as big as Texas and gleamed a pale blue-white reflection everywhere. The lone figure on the balcony continued to gaze, drinking in all that he could. When he drank his fill, he walked swiftly back inside, hands behind his back.

The room inside was a stark contrast to the wonders outside. It was completely covered with mechanical instruments, supposedly to help the astronomer better understand the ways of nature, as well as large maps and globes that foolishly attempted to map out the universe. The new visitor eyed these things with much curiosity, wondering to himself whether any of these things were the mark of a genius or a delusional fool.

This visitor wore a blue green coat over a regal looking vest, complete with a shiny, emerald brooch; a symbol of his proud country and heritage. He also wore a dusty, black farmers' hat which did not go with the rest of his oufit at all. However, he would not relinquish it for anything. He was just adjusting his pin in a nearby mirror, when he suddenly heard a ridiculous, maddening laugh. The visitor groaned heavily.

"Haheeha...Well, well. Still trying to pass off as a dig-nit-ary eeehh? My walkin' Hayshtack!#" This new arrival spoke in an accent that was an unholy hybrid of cockney and something like scotish, and to add good measure, it also sounded like it inhaled one too many substances. The first visitor turned around with a dark look planted on his stitched face.

"Hello Hatter," he said glumly in his own farm country accent.

"Not sho pleeased, why 'ever es that govner?"the Hatter replied back.

"Take a wild guess."

The Mad Hatter considered for a moment. When his mind started wandering, the first visitor looked him over. This man's attire was as different from his own, like the outside stars were from the inside clockwork. This barely-sane man had a barely held-together wardrobe; a mis-match of patterns and colors. Purple over gray blue, plaid over polka dots. You almost couldn't tell what was what. There were obvious things though; like a dotted tie, some striped pants, a silver chain connected to a broken watch, and of course the infamous hat. As much as he hated it, the first visitor had to admit, that was a nice hat.

"Oiy give up!: ) Why isnt yuu 'appy to shee me?" he said after a period of time.

"Because, every time ah do, ah feel like a'm havin a dang contact high from yer insanity," he answered plainly.

"Dunt flatter yo'shelf Scarecrow!*# Yuu coult' never 'andle bein ME!" The Hatter said, twirling around until he was in The Scarecrow's face. Up close, his eyes appeared to be three different colors, if that was even possible; which considering where he came from, it probably was.

"Hay!$ Yo misshin' un eye. Got a big button inshtead," Hatter remarked upon noticing. The Scarecrow did indeed have a button in place of his missing right eye. But he was in no mood to talk about this recent physical injury to someone like this.

"Get out of ma' face, NOW!" Scarecrow said in a threatening tone.

"Okay okay, eashy dere Scarecrow govner" he backed away on his toes, like a hippy-ballerina.

"And dont call me Scarecrow fer pete's sake, ah do have a real name ya'know, not just an overly obvious title."

"RiiIiigt. What ish et again?"

"Sigh...It's Thatch. Thatch Hunk."

"Ie prefrer Scarecrow. Ooh, or maybe evn Straw man!%"

"Ah hate you," Thatch said running a tired hand over his face. "Ah sure hope our host shows up soon."

"Ie tink wes'opse to git une more guest."

"Really? Who?"

"Weeeelll...lit's jus say, es a certain BOY. Wink Wink. A certain, Lost BoY. WinK!"

"What?"

The Hatter cleared his throat, readying himself to display his famous riddle skills. Oddly enough, when he recited these rymes, he seemed to speak almost clearly.

"_A little bird who flew so high, out of sight_

_to follow the second star to the right._

_Friend to the children far and near,_

_enemy to a hooked buccaneer."_

Scarecrow thought for a moment. Trying to interpret the Hatter's riddles was no easy feat for most people. Fortunately, he was not most people, he was the smartest person in all of Oz. He figured out the riddle in no time, but he did not like the answer.

"You don't mean...?"

Before the Oz ambassador could finish though, a great wind smelling of the sea burst through the room. The force of this wind was so great, the other two were pushed against the wall. When it finally died down, the source came floating down to their level. "What's up?" it asked in a young, happy-go-lucky voice.

"Well, speak of the pixie lover. Just when ah though this couldnt get any worse," said Thatch as he eyed the new arrival. It was a young of maybe twelve or thirteen, but it was hard tell exactly on account of his immortality. He wore ragged green-brown clothes, expressing his outdoor lifestyle. His chestnut hair was a little long, and incredibly spikey from all the clouds he dived in, which displayed his wild nature. He also wore a few indian trinkets like a dreamcatcher around the neck, and a feather in hair. Not to mention the legendary sword strapped to his side, who some believed was forged by the same makers of Excaliber.

The lost boy greeted the pair with his arms folded, and a huge smirk on his face. It was the kind of smug face that showed people just how little he cared what others thought of him.

"What's wrong with you patch face? Woke upon the wrong end of the pole?" the boy replied in a mocking tone. Hatter snickered quite loudly at this.

"Peter Pan," said Thatch. "Why in heaven and earth are _you_ here?"

"Beats me, I was summoned, just like you guys were I assume." Peter floated around on his back, like he was in the deep end of a pool.

"And you actually came? That's a surprise. Ah always thought it only took two things ta get ya outta yer paradise. A lost shadow, or a pretty gal lookin' yer way." The Scarecrow emphasized this last part, saying it with as much disgust as possible. Peter sneered at the tall straw man.

"You're one to talk about pretty girls Scarecrow."

"For the last time, its Thatch!" he almost yelled. Trying to calm down, he turned around to see The Hatter sitting on the ground drinking tea, as if they weren't even there. Thatch could not understand where he could have possibly pulled that tea pot from.

"Why es a raven liike a writin deshk?" he asked quite randomly, not even bothering to look up from his tea.

The Scarecrow groaned. "It isnt okay? Ya keep askin' that, and ah'm tellin' ya, it aint nothin like a writing desk. If yer gonna be confusing, could ya maybe do it someone else?"

Thatch walked away from his companions, trying to get a moment of peace and clear his mind. He could not understand what the old man wanted to see all of them for. Sure, he was smart, and even had plenty of experience in government, but_ these_ two? The Hatter was an unpredictable mass of insanity, a product of a shroom overrun landscape and an insane, bloodthirsty monarchy. As for Peter Pan, sure he was a hero, but he was also a savage wildboy; an uncontrollable child with a penchant for violence which comes from living with indians, and fighting pirates all the time.

As Scarecrow ran all of this through his brilliant mind, the sound of creaking doors got his and the others' attention. The large brass doors at the end of the hall opened, revealing an ancient man, as old as old can get. Flowing white beard, half-moon spectacles, glittereing blue robes, and a walking staff. This was the world's first wizard, Merlin.

"Good evening gentlemen," he greeted. "Sorry to troule you, but I need help saving the world."


End file.
